


A Good Good Night

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Birthday Party, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, F/M, Frottage, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-28
Updated: 2012-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-30 06:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Finn's birthday, and therefore party time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Good Good Night

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a birthday fic for fififolle, for the prompt'Ryan/Rees, fully clothed frottage'.
> 
> A note about OCs:  
> Primeval fandom on LiveJournal has generated a number of fanon OCs, created by different authors and freely used by others, to the extent that some of them have now taken on lives of their own. Of the ones that appear in this fic, Rees, Anders, Carter and Jacobs belong to me, and Lyle, Blade, Ditzy, Kermit and Finn belong to fredbassett.
> 
> Ross Jenkins was rescued from BBC Wales by bigtitch.

Ryan could hear the music floating over from the back garden even before he opened the front gate, and he smirked a little when he noticed that the windows of the two adjacent houses were completely dark. It looked like the neighbours had taken the lads’ warnings about the party to heart, and made themselves scarce. Ryan suspected they were still in credit from the time Blade had rescued Mrs Smith’s cat from her roof, and the time Ross and Finn had kept an eye on the Robsons’ son Martin when they’d had to rush their youngest to hospital with appendicitis.

Not to mention that Matt seemed to have a fetish for putting nearly everyone on the street’s bins out. For a group of supposedly tough-nut Special Forces soldiers, they certainly were a soft touch.

Reaching the front door, Ryan pushed the doorbell, and then banged the knocker for good measure. He was fully expecting to be kept waiting for a while (and to have to ring and knock several more times), given the volume of the noise he could hear, but it was actually only about twenty seconds before the door was pulled open, and Matt was standing in front of him.

Ryan felt his mouth go slightly dry at the sight. His lover was wearing black jeans that were surely too tight to be legal, and a deep green shirt with sleeves rolled up to the elbows to reveal his tanned forearms.

“Hey you,” Matt said, with a cheeky smile.

Ryan pulled himself together, hoping he hadn’t been gaping like a lust-struck idiot, and replied, “Hey.” He stepped into the hall as Matt backed up slightly, and then gave in to the impulse to kiss the other man. Matt tasted of the beer he’d obviously already consumed, and smelled of the aftershave that was fast becoming one of Ryan’s favourite scents in the whole world.

“Oi, you two, break it up!”

Ross was clattering down the stairs, his expression clearly conveying what he thought about finding one of his best mates and his commanding officer locked in a clinch in his front hall.

But Matt merely flipped him the finger, while Ryan gave him his best forbidding stare. Neither reaction appeared to have the slightest effect on Ross, however, who jumped the last couple of steps and landed in front of them, now grinning broadly and waving a CD.

“Found it!” he proclaimed, and Ryan just glimpsed the words ‘Best Birthday Party Classics’ on the CD sleeve before Ross took off down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen and back garden.

“Do I want to know?” Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Probably not,” Matt told him. “Although you’ll find out soon enough anyway.”

“Can’t wait,” said Ryan dryly, and Matt laughed.

“You’re lucky we were in here looking for that, actually,” he said. “Otherwise you might have been waiting on the step for a while.”

“Well, I was considering kicking the door in if I’d ended up stuck out there too long,” Ryan joked.

“Not a good idea,” replied Matt. “You don’t want to get on the bad side of our landlady – she’s scarier than you, Blade and Lester all rolled into one!”

Ryan shuddered in a mock fear. “Good job you were about, then,” he said, leaning in to give Matt another quick kiss.

A particularly loud burst of laughter from the back of the house attracted their attention before Ryan was really ready to break away, and Matt grinned. “Come on,” he said. “Come and say hi to the birthday boy.”

They made their way through the house, and exited through the back door into the garden. Looking around, Ryan saw he was pretty much the last to arrive. The garden was already crowded – apart from Ross by the CD player, he spotted Blade behind the barbecue, poking at some sausages with a knife that was far too big for any culinary purpose. And Ditzy had obviously appointed himself barman for the evening, dishing out what was obviously _not_ their first round to Lyle and Kermit.

Someone else who was clearly not on their first round was Connor, who had apparently just tripped over his own feet, much to the amusement of Jason and Simon, Matt’s mates from his unit, who were practically collapsing on each other with laughter while off to one side Abby was rolling her eyes.

Sitting at a table on the patio was what appeared to be the ‘adult’ contingent of the party, comprising Jenny Lewis, Lorraine Wickes (although she was eyeing Blade’s cooking skills in a manner that suggested she was about to go and show her boyfriend the correct way to skewer a sausage), Alec Jacobs, and – Ryan blinked – James Lester.

“Well, fuck me,” he muttered. “How did Jon manage to persuade him to come?”

“He claims he threatened to withhold sexual favours for a month,” Matt replied, chucking. “But since this is Lyle we’re talking about…”

“He’d shrivel up and die if he went without for that long,” Ryan agreed. “Or at least, his dick would.”

And of course, right in the middle of everything was Finn, the birthday boy himself. He spotted Ryan and Matt just as they started heading in his direction and waved at them merrily, clearly already at least two sheets to the wind. “Sir! Thanks for coming!” he cried happily as Ryan reached him.

“No problem,” Ryan replied. “Happy Birthday.”

“Cheers!” Finn matched his actions to his words, raising the bottle of beer in his hand in a toast, seemingly unconcerned that no one else was joining in.

“Stringer and his lot send their best wishes,” Ryan added. Joel’s unit had unfortunately drawn the short straw on this occasion, remaining on call at the ARC in case of anomalies or other things of a similarly apocalyptic nature. “They said they’ll take you out for a drink next week to make up for it.”

“If you’re not still hungover by then,” Matt added.

“Don’t get hangovers,” Finn proclaimed, the most outrageous lie Ryan had ever heard.

“Bollocks, mate!” Lyle yelled, having overheard. “I remember that time when…”

As Lyle and Finn got started on a good-natured argument about their relative abilities to hold their drink, with Kermit weighing in and Ditzy offering medical advice about alcohol consumption, Ryan looked around again.

“No Cutter and Hart?” he asked Matt.

“Lyle asked them, but they begged off, citing important research,” Matt replied. “Although considering the quotation marks that he put round the word, it was clear what Lyle thinks they’re really up to.”

“And there’s a mental image I definitely didn’t need,” Ryan said, pulling a face. “I’m going to need a drink to get rid of that one.”

“Your wish is my command,” Matt said, and led him over to the ‘bar’.

“Evening, boss,” Ditzy said, doing an admirable job of ignoring the outraged splutters coming from Finn as Lyle related a tale that included handcuffs, lampposts, and ladies underwear. Ryan would have suspected him of making it up, except that he’d seen the results for himself – the memory of which he’d just about managed to forget until now.

Alcohol was looking like an extremely attractive proposition at the moment.

“Evening,” Ryan replied, turning a desperate glance on Ditzy, who rose to the occasion magnificently, in Ryan’s opinion, and quickly handed him and Matt a beer each.

He had even more reason to be grateful for the presence of the alcohol when, a couple of minutes later, Ross finally finished fiddling with the CD player, and everyone’s voices were suddenly drowned out by the dulcet, and extremely loud, tones of Cliff Richard.

_“Congratulations, and celebrations…”_

“Oh god, kill me now,” Ryan muttered, while Matt did nothing more than laugh at him, the traitor.

Several people shouted at Ross to turn it off, but Ross merely grinned, and planted himself in front of the CD player, obviously ready to take on anyone who might try to go through him to get to the stop button.

Still, when Sir Cliff’s warbling finally came to an end, he did take pity on them all, and turn down the volume, just as ‘Agadoo’ started. Only Finn appeared to be disappointed.

“If that’s going to set the tone for the rest of the evening, then I am definitely going to need another drink,” said a dry voice behind Ryan, and he turned to see Lester making his way towards them.

“Hello, sir,” he said, a trifle awkwardly. Despite Lester’s relationship with Lyle, the man didn’t socialise with them very much (and Ryan still wasn’t clear on how Jon had persuaded him to come to this shindig), and it felt slightly odd to be standing there with his arm around Matt’s waist, swapping commentary on the state of Ross’s music collection.

“Evening, Captain,” Lester replied, accepting a beer from Ditzy. Then, before either of them could say anything else, a somewhat tipsy Lyle popped up.

“Hello, lover,” he exclaimed, and leaned in to plant a kiss on Lester’s lips, much to Lester’s annoyance, but also obvious-if-you-knew-what-to-look-for pleasure.

However, all Lester said in response, when Lyle had finished mauling him, was, “Jon, do try not to make _too_ much of a spectacle of yourself,” and then he returned to what Ryan was now thinking of as the ‘sensible table’ and started talking Jenny.

“Sausage, boss?” Blade said, interrupting Ryan’s musings on whether he would be able to get his phone out of his pocket in time to snap a picture of the pout on Jon’s face at Lester’s departure.

“Thanks,” Ryan replied, accepting the hot dog in the hand not holding his beer.

“You certainly know how to handle a sausage, I can vouch for that,” Matt murmured in his ear, his innuendo-laden tone almost making Ryan choke on his first bite.

He turned a glare on Matt, who merely smirked back unashamedly and gave Ryan’s arse a squeeze.

More alcohol was called for, Ryan decided.

As the evening wore on, the party gradually descended even further into cheerful chaos as everyone ate, drank, and made merry. Abby and Alec appeared to have assigned themselves the responsibility of making sure the rest of the lads, plus Connor, didn’t start doing anything too monumentally stupid, assisted every so often by Ryan, who was feeling guilty that the other captain was having to deal with Lyle and the others as well as his own men.

Lorraine had finally joined Blade behind the barbecue, and was ably distributing sausages and burgers at the same time as fending off the advances of her boyfriend (catering and kissing didn’t mix, it seemed). Jenny and Lester were still ensconced at the patio table, but the telltale flush on both their faces betrayed how much they’d actually drunk, and Ryan had even spotted Lester laughing at one point.

Perched on the wall at one side of the garden, Ryan watched Matt talking to Jason and Simon, who had apparently decided that they needed some time out from Lyle and Co.’s company, and had congregated near Ditzy’s makeshift bar. He’d been hard-pressed to keep his hands off his lover for most of the evening, despite the somewhat dampening presence of Lester, and to a lesser extent Jenny and the rest of the lads. Matt looked good enough to eat, and Ryan was starting to wonder if anyone would miss them if they disappeared for a little while.

Then, as if someone up there was smiling on him, he heard Ditzy call out, “Oi, Rees, I’m running a bit low here – can you go and drag out the other cooler?”

“Sure,” Matt said agreeably. He handed his own half done bottle of beer to Jason (Ryan suspected he might come back to find that bottle was empty), and crossed the garden towards the house. As he passed Ryan he winked, raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head in an unmistakeable invitation.

Ryan nodded minutely, and tried to avoid gazing too eagerly after Matt as he vanished into the house. He took his time over the remainder of his beer (was it his seventh, or eighth? He couldn’t remember), and then set the bottle down on the wall as he stood nonchalantly and followed after Matt.

He hadn’t thought anyone had noticed him, but as he crossed the patio, he distinctly heard Lester say, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Captain.”

Ryan tried to decide whether that meant he should just give up now, but then realised that, given Lester’s presence at this party, there were quite a lot of things he _would_ do, after all.

Suddenly, Ryan felt rather like he’d just been given his boss’s blessing. It was a disconcerting thought.

But all thoughts of Lester, or anyone else, were driven from his head when he reached the house. He made his way through the kitchen, and into the passage that led to the utility area, where he knew the party supplies were being kept. It was almost completely dark in the passage, but before his eyes could adjust, he found himself grabbed and pushed against the wall.

“Christ, I thought you were never going to turn up,” Matt muttered. “I was beginning to wonder if my subtle signals had been a little too subtle.”

Ryan could have mentioned that there was one person at least outside who knew perfectly well what they were up to in here, but instead he found his lips otherwise occupied, as Matt was kissing him.

With no annoying housemates to interrupt, this kiss went on for a considerably longer time. Ryan felt a shiver go down his spine as Matt’s tongue pushed aggressively into his mouth. He let himself be pressed against the wall by his lover. In any sparring match, Ryan could have taken Matt easily – Matt was smaller and slighter than him, and Ryan’s superior height and broader shoulders would have given him a distinct advantage – but right now he was happy to let Matt dictate things. Happy to feel Matt’s hands clutching at his shoulders before sliding up and around the back of his neck to hold Ryan’s head in place as he deepened the kiss.

Another shiver went down Ryan’s spine, pooling as warmth low in his belly and making his cock start to stiffen. He could feel that Matt was already half hard – the other man’s sinfully tight jeans did nothing to conceal that fact.

“We should take this somewhere else,” he muttered into Matt’s mouth, and for the first time tried to push Matt away a bit.

But Matt merely pushed back again, keeping Ryan firmly pinned. “No time,” he murmured. “And besides, I can’t wait that long – god, I’ve wanted you ever since I opened the front door earlier.”

Ryan thought about protesting some more, but then Matt thrust his groin against him, and anything he might have been about to say was lost in the sparks of pleasure that danced outwards from his now fully hard cock.

He wanted to get his hand down there, open Matt’s jeans and curl his fingers around Matt’s cock. Hell, he really wanted to feel Matt’s fingers curled around his _own_ cock. But there was absolutely no space between them, and Matt didn’t seem inclined to change that situation any time soon.

He thrust against Ryan again, and Ryan gave up on any idea except reaching around to grab Matt’s arse and pull him even closer.

Both men groaned at the rough movement.

“Fuck, Ryan,” Matt whispered. “Feels so good.”

It briefly occurred to Ryan that it would feel even better with no clothes on, but he was too far gone now to even attempt to make that a reality (and he suspected that Matt was too far gone to let him). So he just increased the intensity of his rutting against Matt, thrusting back as hard as his lover now, until the friction started to send his vision fuzzy around the edges, moments before he came with a low cry, his cock jerking in the confines of his jeans.

Matt pushed against him a few more times, and then he came too, his head dropping to Ryan’s shoulder as he panted harshly.

They leaned against each other in the darkness for a few moments before Ryan shifted slightly, his expression turning to a grimace as he felt the sticky dampness against his groin.

“Christ,” he cursed. “This was _not_ a good idea.”

Matt lifted his head, and Ryan’s eyes had adjusted to the dim light enough now that he could tell the other man was smirking.

“I think it was a fucking brilliant idea,” Matt replied. “And don’t worry, we’ll just go and clean ourselves up.”

“What happened to having no time for anything else?” Ryan asked.

“Well, if you want to go back outside and show everyone your damp patch…” Matt said, his grin widening.

Ryan closed his eyes briefly, imagining all the looks he’d get. Not that he was under any illusions that everyone _wouldn’t_ be able to work out what had been going on even if he went back out looking immaculate.

Then another thought occurred to him. “I haven’t got any spare clothes here,” he realised. “What the hell am I going to change into? And don’t bother offering me anything of yours,” he added. “You know it won’t fit me.”

“Blade’s stuff probably would though,” Matt replied. “We’ll borrow something of his.”

“And that won’t be at all obvious, will it?” Ryan snapped.

Matt gave him a look. “Listen, Ryan, if you’re…”

“Oh, shut up,” Ryan said, and proceeded to enforce his instruction with a kiss. Despite the dampness in his jeans, and all the jeers and catcalls he _knew_ were going to greet them when they returned to the party, he couldn’t find it in himself to actually regret what they’d just done. Having Matt pressed up against him – having Matt _still_ pressed up against him – felt amazing, and if he was honest, he loved having a lover who could turn him on so quickly without removing even a stitch of clothing.

He ended the kiss with a light nip to Matt’s bottom lip. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go and find me something to wear, and then we can face the music together.”

He’d dealt with war zones, some of the most brutal training regimens known to man, and _dinosaurs_ , for fuck’s sake. He could certainly endure a little embarrassment.


End file.
